how I
shuddered at the thought of war; how it was my prayer that you should
not follow your father's career; but when duty called, Roy, I cast all
my fears behind, and stood forward ready to do or die. No, Roy! not
while we have a shot left to fire, a strong hand to raise! Let those
who will seek for safety in this base submission to the rebel powers: we
will show them that a woman and a boy can be faithful to the end. That
for the letter and its cowardly advice," she cried, tearing it
disdainfully to pieces. "We have but one thought here, Roy, and the old
walls shall echo it as long as the stones will stand--God save the
king!"

Roy leaped upon one of the chairs, drew his sword and waved it round his
head, roaring out, with all his might, "God save the king!" And
directly after there was a hurried step at the door, which was thrown
open, and the electric excitement in the lad's breast was discharged as
if he had received a touch from a rod.

For the maid-servant appeared, looked at him in astonishment, and said,
"Did you call, Master Roy?"

The boy got down, and sheathed his sword, babbling out something, and
his mother smilingly said--

"No; you were not called."

"I beg pardon, my lady," said the woman, and she retired.

"Oh, I say, mother!" faltered Roy; "how stupid I must have seemed!"

"I did not think so," said Lady Royland, smiling.

"But it looked as if I were acting."

"Go on acting so, then, my son," said his mother, proudly; "we need not
study what people think."

"Here's Master Pawson," whispered Roy, quickly. "Go back to your chair,
mother."

Roy went to his own, and Lady Royland slowly followed his example, as
the secretary, after passing the window, entered the room.

"I beg pardon," he said, "for being so late. Good-morning, Lady
Royland; good-morning, Roy. I slept so dreadfully soundly."

"You need not apologise, Master Pawson," said the lady, gravely; and she
noted that his quick eyes had rested upon the fragments of the torn-up
letter scattered about the room, where she had tossed them
contemptuously. "You are looking at the letter I received this
morning."

"A letter?" he cried, eagerly; "from Sir Granby?"

"No," said Lady Royland, with a sigh which she could not restrain; "it
is from close at hand--from some of our neighbours. I wish I had kept
it for you to see."

"Not bad news, I hope," he said, looking pale.

"Yes; very bad news," said Lady Royland. "I have bee